Chocolate Chip Cookies.
We are obsessed with them; I used to bake them all the time in the US.
Less than a week in Bogota, and we’re craving these treats.
I have lots of obstacles to overcome, but I’m determined to make them as a surprise for Gray when he comes home from work.
I’m using a Betty Crocker Mix that I paid way too much for, but I don’t have any flour, sugar, chocolate chips, vanilla extract… you get the idea.
I preheat the world’s smallest oven to 400. The mix says 375, but Google is telling me to increase the temp by 25 degrees because of the altitude. (I also google the conversion from Fahrenheit to Celsius.)
I peel the Spanish instruction label off to read the English. I could read the Spanish, but this is a delicate business and I’m not taking chances.
This should be easy – all I have to do is add 1 egg and ½ cup of butter!
Hmm. Turns out the margarine (I couldn’t find butter in the grocery store on my last visit) is not in convenient sticks. Instead it has a system showing me how many spoonfuls equal a gram, but it doesn’t tell me how big this spoon should be. I google a conversion chart to figure out how many grams are in ½ cup. Using some simple math I figure out how much of this chunk of butter is half a cup.
Google tells me that for elevation of 7000 feet (we are at 8500), I should add 1 tbs of flour. Too bad I don’t have any.
I’ve mixed it together by hand, but it only looks… okay.
I check the oven and it hasn’t heated up. It’s on… I think. So I Google the oven brand and determine that yes, I am using it properly — but something is definitely wrong. It’s not even warm, and I turned it on 20 minutes ago.
I regret everything.
I put the dough in a container and shove it in the fridge.
Gray shares my disappointment, and wonders aloud if you can make cookies on the stove. We google it and of course someone has instructions on how to do it. I am skeptical, but with a broken oven what else am I going to do with the dough? (I also don’t have any baking sheets, only foil.)
As we feared, our “cookies” are burnt, disgusting, inedible lumps.
The good news is that two blocks away is a shop called The Cookie Jaar.